


Orange Hyacinths

by deadcereus



Series: Bet On It [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asra is Embarrassed™, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Don't abuse spot-me-not spells to stalk bakers, Faust is so done with Asra, Gen, Magic, Nonbinary Character, Pre-Game(s), The Arcana is disappointed in Asra, The Marketplace Now Ships Asra/Apprentice, The Only Upside: Free Food, There's a betting pool, They are not subtle, Which Includes Setting Things on Fire, and then get caught despite this, but also very amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcereus/pseuds/deadcereus
Summary: Asra almost burns the shop to the ground. What's a hapless apprentice got to do?(Clean up after his mess, of course. Then consult the cards for guidance on how to attain the patience of a saint... or get a stress-relieving stick that can whack sense into one's master.)





	1. Spiced Peach Jam

I'm drenched in sweat, choking, sputtering, heart racing. My tongue is heavy in my mouth, as dry as a desert. Lungs make desperate, clawing attempts for clean air and is shocked when it _works_.

Ah, this is my room. _I am... safe._

The jug I keep on my nightstand is a faithful friend; I chug half of it down far too quickly. The water cools my throat. _I am safe._

(The taste of bone-white ashes isn't real; the stifling smoke and screams and scorching heat of fire was only a bad memory... no, a figment of my imagination? Must be one of the run-of-the-mill nightmares. Yes, that's it. A silly fear, no big deal. My breaths even out, and I find stability in the presence of my heartbeat. I am safe.)

Well, I'm not leaving this fluffy deathtrap of a bed anytime soon. Might stay awake a little longer, just to soak in the feeling of safety. Of the good things in reality. It was one of our rare days off, so Asra wouldn't mind me sleeping in, not really. Yeah, I have to keep up on shop maintenance and my studies, but that can wait. Taking breaks is a form of training too... I think.

Even the sun isn't quite up yet, but I can hear my master tinkering with whatever experiment or magic tool has caught his fancy at this ungodly hour. His magic is ever-constant, and I feel its comforting waves wash over me.

It feels secure, homey (if not a home), when I'm surrounded by his imprint and arcane engravings everywhere.

(Already, the nightmare is fading away.)

That doesn't mean I find his secret-hoarding and mystic non-sequiturs infuriating at times, though. Whatever, he'll tell me when he's ready to share what goes on in that absent-minded, brilliant mind of his. Or when _he_ thinks I'm ready. Who knows?

Except maybe the cards, but they're just as tight-lipped than Asra, if not more so. I try not to rely on them too much. A bit contrary for a fortuneteller, but I don't want to be dependent on half-truths and vague mutterings _all the time_. Fate and foreknowledge only gets one so far.

But if I admitted that out loud, I'd surely receive scandalized gasps and frightened whispers. Master is held in high regard, and I can't break his pedestal and have it all crash down. He's as burdened with secrets (and me) as it is.

 _Never_ would that be worth it.

Anyway, who knows what he's is up to when I'm asleep? Getting secrets out of him is like trying to pry a territorial starfish from its favorite rock. I've spent way too many sleepless nights than is probably ideal to figure him out, and that got me nowhere. Stooping down to spying yielded nothing but embarrassment, so might as well enjoy my sleep and turn a blind eye if it makes Master happy.

My heads sinks into my pillow and I wait for blissful, preferably dreamless slumber with open arms, but—

Is that... _smoke?_ No, it couldn't be. Master isn't _that_ careless.

His assessment of his self-worth is worryingly low, but he— he _wouldn't_. Not when he has our shop, his half-finished projects, Faust... and _me_ , not that I'm sure he fully understands what that means. What he means to me.

He _can't_. Not without warning, or a farewell or _something_. Except... that would be _exactly_ like him, to leave without so much as a trace.

(Panic sets in, and the remnants of a nightmare reawaken. _Nodon'tleavepleasestayI'mSCARED—)_

Already, I'm out of bed, fumbling for the doorknob, sliding down the stairs. A deep breath, and I tell myself: _Don't jump to conclusions, you moron. It's more likely that Master tried to invent a new magic spell and messed up again. Laugh it off and tease him, as you always do_.

"Master?" It comes out more childish and _vulnerable_ than I wanted, but I stanchly ignore it. "Why do I smell smoke at six in the morning? Was it an odd request of one of our customers?"

Asra hastily covers a misshapen, burnt object with a scroll, adjusting his clothes and position to hide it from view. Is that an _apron_ he's wearing? "Y-you're not supposed to be awake yet!"

Wow, I don't think I've ever see him this flustered. It's almost, dare I say it... _cute_. "Of course not," I play along. "You rarely venture outside for fresh air, and the smoke was the final straw. Finally, your brain was fed up with its idiot vessel and made up a hallucination to nag about your health."

"What a cheeky apprentice I have," he says, tapping his chin. "Hmm... you might want to do something about that bedhead of yours, and maybe change into proper clothes too."

I blush, suddenly very aware of the sweaty mess I must be right now. "Fine. But I want to know why the shop almost burnt down when I get back, okay?"

He chuckles sheepishly, subtly inching towards the broom. Trying to get rid of the evidence while I'm away, I see. "Yes, you deserve an explanation... _later_. Off you go!"

* * *

 

After I quickly make myself sorta presentable enough, I return to the crime scene. "What on earth possessed you to set the shop _ablaze?_ Perhaps your white hair is trying to warn you you've gone senile with old age, Master?"

"Geez, you must think your wit can dry up oceans." He hesitates, his face tinged with the pink of the sunrise. Anyone else would be fidgeting, but he's far too secretive to have such an obvious tell. Blushing is a surprisingly common occurrence though. "I was baking. It was supposed to be pumpkin bread, but..." He gestures helplessly at the disaster zone. "That happened."

"My favorite?" I curiously lift the scroll, batting away Asra's hands. The fruit of his labor is a midnight black lump, as hard as a clay pot after a night in the kiln. "I didn't know you liked it too, Master. If I'd known, I would've bought some for you. You should've told me, the local baker makes this heavenly pumpkin bread with nutmeg and roasted walnuts!"

"I know," he replies, clearly amused. At what? My babbling?

"What, did you spy on him?" I tease, throwing Asra a saucy wink.

His jaw hangs open, then promptly clicks shut. There is no other sound.

Leaning in, I ruthlessly take advantage of his speechless state. "So broad-shouldered, sun-kissed hunks are Master's type? Ooh, could it be you are trying to woo him by beating him in his own specialty?" Side-eyeing his burnt failure, I pat his back sympathetically. "You might want to practice more before you present the final product. Also, I wouldn't advise any more stalking, since you might be mistaken as a thief trying to steal recipes."

"Even the wandering bards who live to spin tall tales would envy your imagination. I wasn't... _spying_ on your favorite baker or anything."

Faust slithers out of the sink and gives Asra the most skeptical look I'd ever seen on a snake. She shakes her head, as if to say: _Yeah, right. Admit it, you're not fooling anyone._

Master clutches his heart dramatically. "Faust, why must you be so adorable?" He boops her and sighs in defeat, confessing, "Today was the day you succeeded on your first magic spell, so I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast."

I snort, but can't help but feel my heart warm a little. I hadn't known the exact date until today, but I do remember the wonder and pride that welled up inside me when I successfully cast my first spell that made a flower unfurl its delicate petals. The corners of Asra's lips lift up, and I know that I've given myself away. "Instead, I get distressed smoke signals calling for help. Truly, I'm blessed with such a wonderful teacher," I drawl, only half-joking.

"Someday you'll regret it," Master says softly, bitter yet resigned, like it was etched in the stars as cold, hard fact. "I'm not sure if I want to be there when it happens."

"What?" I laugh, trying to lighten the mood, to convey how _ridiculous_ it is for Master to think that could ever be true. I hate that he _believes_ that he means so little to me, when he is my _world_ , one that holds many mysteries that I have yet to understand. "How could I ever regret you, Master?"

His smile is brittle, like one touch would render it to dust, easily blown away and forgotten. "Shall I count the ways? No... never mind. It wouldn't do to be so gloomy when I planned to celebrate your achievements today."

I bite down my tongue. No need to question Asra if there'll be no answers forthcoming. I'll shelve away the pieces of the puzzle I have and simply enjoy the rare occasion.

With a graceful sweep of his arm, my master seats me at the table, presenting a scrumptious variety of honey, jams and jellies to go with (thankfully edible) pumpkin bread from the bakery. The aroma of ginger cardamom tea wafts up my nose, and there is a basket of fruits and mango pudding waiting to be devoured. I smile, applying a generous amount of spiced peach jam on a slice of bread and relish in the feeling of being pampered.

"I had back-up bread in case I didn't succeed," Master clarifies, even though no one asked. He adds a dollop of honey to a cup of tea and stirs it until he's satisfied enough to take a sip.

Faust cautiously nudges the wobbly mango pudding and reels back like it personally offended her. She slinks away to coil possessively around a vase of orange hyacinths, giving the pudding her best evil eye from a safe distance.

Master fondly traces a finger around Faust's scales, and if she were a cat, I think she would've purred. We ease into a cozy, peaceful silence; there is no need for words when we have each other's company.

I am safe, spending time with the closest thing to family I've got, and the food is delicious and filling.

All is well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Asra used a mild spot-me-not spell (in same magical branch as the cross-me-not charm that locks the door from the visual novel) to spy on the baker making pumpkin bread. Purely for educational, non-profit purposes. Magic is a bit overkill, though... so Faust breaks the spell easily. The distinguished Asra is outed as a creeper, oh no!  
> After some confusion, everyone ships Asra with his apprentice now, and teases him on his closeness to his 'beloved'. Street vendors give him free food and flowers; novice fortunetellers bestow good luck charms and whatnot on him. Faust is fed many treats, and in return, she gets rid of pests.
> 
> Please tell me what you think in the comments~ Why do I always get myself in tiny fandoms lol. Maybe you can share what you love about The Arcana too, since it's just so gorgeous and mysterious... I love everything about it, but Faust is my favorite character, hands-down. She's so adorable and sneaky.  
>  
> 
> _For those who are literature-savvy, I challenge you find the reference I made to a pretty well-known sonnet. It's there somewhere, I promise. ;)_  
>  **Go on, then. Conquer the comment box for me, will you?**


	2. The Origins of a Betting Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the _Omake: From a Puzzled Apprentice's Perspective._ Takes place the following day when they're shopping, while their elusive master is... somewhere.

Asra and I only took a day off, but the atmosphere of bazaar has _shifted_ somehow. Just barely, but it's there, almost tangible in a sense. I see them trade knowing glances when I brush past, like there's an inside joke that I missed. Worse, there's not one peep from _anyone_ about this... development.

It's like they all collectively decided to follow in his horrible example. Just.  _Why._

That's not all. Before, they spoke of him in awe, in hushed whispers from a distance. I received a similar treatment, but unlike Master, they feel free to strike up causal conversations now and then. Now, it's a more _express_ interest they have in him. The respect is still there, but the teasing glimmer in their eyes is new.

A merchant chortles when I ask how much is a jar of sea salt. "Half off for you. In return, bring Asra over next time, eh? I've started importing some rare herbs and powders. Plenty of ingredients for him to work his _magic~_!" Their bushy brows wriggle on their forehead.

I obediently bob my head and pay for the salt. "I'll see what I can do."  _Which is not much_. I'm always doing the shopping errands alone or sometimes with Faust, because Asra dislikes crowded places. Dragging him outside will be a pain and a half.

On an impulse, I grab peas, carrots and chicken to go with the stir-fry I'm cooking for tonight's dinner. Eggs and peppers would make a tasty omelet, so I add that to my load as well. Heaven knows that Master needs all the food he can get, since he neglects his meals far too often.

The elderly lady who bakes naan daily beckons me over. "How's that rugged rascal of yours doing, little one?"

"Rugged?" I parrot, slightly bemused. "Really? I think 'willowy' would describe Master better."

She grins from ear to ear. "Oh? But I didn't say it was Asra."

"Who else would you be referring to?" _It couldn't be Faust, right? She's a snake..._

Her husband nudges her aside. "Make room, O lovely wife of mine. Speaking of _wives_ , we have three grandnieces that're single and ready to mingle~! Also, you would make a fine spouse to either of our grandsons, if you're interested."

_What's with the sudden influx of marriage offers?!_

Careful not to offend the overenthusiastic couple, I politely decline and buy some of their flatbread as an apology. "I'm honored, but marriage isn't one of my priorities right now. I have my studies, after all."

A nearby passerby cuts in, "Well, well. Do you have your eye on someone?"

Everyone's stares swivel towards me, inching closer to hear my answer. I swear the buzz of activity in the marketplace dies down because people crane their necks to look and perk up their ears to eavesdrop.

_Maybe I'm overthinking it. Has the gossipmongers exhausted every source of dirt available and are now focused on me?_

_Nah... that's just absurd._

A little boy freezes mid-lick of their candied sweet potato on a stick. Nearby children stop their game, sensing the strange hush over the marketplace. Their battered ball glances off the wall, the toy long forgotten in favor of watching my next move. Everyone looks at me expectantly. 

_Shoot._

_It's probably too late to seek solace in the cards and lament that ons and goings of my love life are the newest topic of discussion now._ _Ugh, how'd I get myself in this mess? This doesn't just happen for no good reason... does it? Hmm... Master_ _probably caused this misunderstanding with his ambiguous answers. Yup, sounds like him._

After blaming Asra, I feel much better. Hey, I'll take whatever form of petty revenge I can get. It's his fault, no questions asked.

(Asking him questions about himself gets me nowhere, anyway.)

The man who had asked me that question blinks rapidly, his face twitching unnaturally. No one bothers to inquire him about his well-being, so I take initiative. "Pardon me, but maybe you should consult a physician? You appear to be having a muscle spasm."

There are groans all around, and everything somewhat resumes to normal.

I heave a breath of relief.

Twitchy stops twitching and clicks his tongue in disgust. "Excuse me, I was _winking_. Are you unaware of the concept?"

Someone calls out, "You don't wink with two eyes, Bolts-For-Brains! You can operate machinery but have little control over your unwashed mug, haha!" Her friends hoot loudly in agreement.

"Shut _up_. As if you have any room to talk!"

 _Actually, I have enough groceries for today,_ I decide, and make a swift escape.

"A week till he cracks first!" a dark-haired woman shouts, her coins clanking.

The elderly man rubs his hands together and idly wraps up some still-warm garlic naan. "No, three days and the little one will realize it on their own, or I'll eat my hat!"

"Fafa'll help 'em. She a smart, slinky noodle!" a young toddler declares with the solemnity of a sage, gurgling happily.

"You hear that? My baby says that darlin' Faust will stop them from dancin' around each other like star-struck fools. I'm bettin' my silver anklets on it!"

_Yikes. I don't want to know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write a fic where nosy townspeople gamble on some poor, unknowing sap's love life, so here you go.


End file.
